


Magnolias in Wintertime

by DoctorQui



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Fluff, Hanzo is done with everyone's shit all the time, I base everything I write on where I live but it was too good of a setting to pass up, Jesse is oblivious af someone help this boy, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9809033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorQui/pseuds/DoctorQui
Summary: Hanzo Shimada is a grumpy florist who hasn't ever seen a real life cowboy in his entire life. Jesse McCree wanders into the shop one day to change that. Garden Shop AU





	

Hanzo first met him on a Tuesday. 

 

It started as a normal day. A somewhat sunny, late winter morning where Hanzo was minding the shop and his own business, tending to his daily tasks. Water the plants, fertilize the soil, check the stock, double-check the catalog, and all the other menial duties that came with running a garden shop as upscale as _Overwatch Flowers_ _and More_. 

 

Of course, no amount of work he put into maintaining class and elegance could prepare the shop for the appearance of an honest, real-life cowboy. Trouble found its way into the shop that day decked out in a sheepskin coat and red flannel, accompanied by an obnoxious brown stetson and the unmistakable jingling of spurs. 

 

If Hanzo had been born and raised in the southwest, or even some of the warmer climates of northern California, he may not have found this as strange as he did. But, he had grown up in Hanamura, and had moved to Seattle. Not many cowboys around there.

 

“Howdy there!” The man greeted, tipping his hat with a flourish. “Mighty fine day, ain’t it? Mighty fine shop too. Lotsa mighty fine things ‘round here.” 

 

Hanzo huffed, rolling his eyes. In all honesty, he didn’t have time for this--he was running on few hours of sleep and just wanted the day to be over. Still, a customer was a customer, so he fought to keep an even face (even though he felt his cheeks grow unmistakably warm at the man’s lecherous grin). “What are you looking for today, sir?”

 

“Oh, nothin’ special. Jus’ another cactus for my apartment,” the stranger said, leaning over the counter. “Y’see, I’m a collector of sorts, but the lil rascals love up and dyin’ on me for no good reason. Gotta replace ‘em every once in a while to keep the whole aesthetic ‘n all, yeah?”

 

“Sure,” Hanzo replied. He wished he was less tired so that he could fully appreciate the attractive man standing in front of him. “You may look around the store to see if anything matches your...preferences.”

 

“Oh darlin’, I’m pretty sure I already see somethin’ that does.” The cowboy pushed off the counter with a wink and strolled around the room, carefully examining the plants scattered throughout. 

 

Hanzo was grateful for the small lapse in conversation--the sooner this exchange was over, the sooner he could get back to work. Then again, he thought, glancing over as the stranger bent over to examine a large stalk of violets, the flirting wasn’t exactly unwelcome.

 

“Ah, here it is! Perfect.” The man shot up with a sunny grin and loped over to the counter, a small pot in tow. “Exactly what I was lookin’ for.”

 

Hanzo raised an eyebrow and looked curiously at the plant. “You...do realize this is not a cactus, yes?”

 

The stranger tilted his hat back, brows furrowing. “What? The hell you mean it ain’t a cactus?”

 

“This is a hibiscus flower,” Hanzo said, barely keeping himself from sighing. 

 

“Ain’t those the same thing?” The man tilted his head. He looked almost like a confused dog, scruffy chin pointed out and lips pursed. 

 

“No, they are not.” 

 

There was a long pause while he considered this. Finally, he looked back at Hanzo. “...You sure?”

 

It took every fiber of self control for Hanzo not to plant his face in his hands. It would seem that the stranger’s immense charm was second only to his foolishness. 

 

“I work here. Yes, I am sure.”

 

The man thought on this for a long moment. It was like something out of a dramatic movie--arms crossed, eyes narrowed, staring down at the flower like it had personally betrayed him. Hanzo half expected the cowboy to get on his knees at any moment shouting  _ you were like a brother to me,  _ but it never came. Instead, the impromptu staring contest ended as quickly as it started and the man fished around in his pockets until he retrieved what Hanzo could only assume to be a horrifyingly patterned wallet. He then pulled a card from the red and gold monstrosity and held it out with a challenging grin.

 

“Well, s’ppose it’s close enough. I’ll take ‘her anyway,” the cowboy said, waving the card in the air. 

 

Hanzo rolled his eyes and snatched it out of his hands before turning to the register. As he rang the order up, his eyes wandered to the name at the bottom of the card. Jesse McCree. A fitting name for a cowboy, he supposed, though he would never understand what would possess someone to dress like that in this day and age. 

 

Once the receipt was printed and signed, Jesse picked up his new plant and gave a small two-fingered salute. “See you ‘round, partner.”

 

Hanzo grunted in response and watched the man wander back out through the front door. As soon as he was gone, he shoved the receipt copy impatiently into the bottom of the register, entirely oblivious to the line of digits scrawled on the back. 

\---

Though Hanzo truly believed that was the last he’d ever see of Jesse McCree, fate had other plans. So it was to his great surprise that he entered the store the next Monday morning to find it already unlocked, and even more so to see a familiar sheepskin coat and stetson hung up behind the counter. 

 

“Ah, Hanzo, there you are,” Ana, the store owner, greeted him as he entered the back room. “We have a new employee I would like you to meet. Don’t worry, I’m not replacing you--just getting some extra muscle. Fareeha has to focus on her studies now more than ever, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have someone else to move things around in here.” She laughed and called out to the greenhouse further behind them. “Come introduce yourself! Don’t be shy.” 

 

If he hadn’t been able to guess by the hat and coat, the obnoxious sound of spurs certainly gave Jesse away before he even entered the room. Fortunately for Hanzo’s sanity, he’d taken measures to look somewhat like a normal employee--his unruly hair was tied back in a small ponytail that sat low on the nape of his neck, and he wore the same standard green apron that Hanzo did. 

 

“Howdy there! Nice to see you again. Name’s Jesse McCree, lookin’ forward to workin’ with you.” He stepped forward, a wide grin nearly splitting his face in two. 

 

Hanzo hesitated, eyes gravitating down towards the cowboy’s outstretched hand. After pausing long enough to cause a pointed amount of discomfort, he took it and shook firmly. Jesse’s hands were warm and calloused, not to mention almost big enough to entirely encase his own. If Hanzo was an irresponsible employee, he might think of how those hands would feel running through his hair, or cradling his face early in the morning.

 

Of course, Hanzo Shimada was nothing if not a professional.

 

“Charmed,” he replied, masking his upset at how true the statement really was. 

 

“I see you’ve already met. Even better,” Ana said, raising an eyebrow. She glanced between the two, briefly sporting a calculating, gleeful grin. After a moment it was gone, replaced by her usual disciplined demeanor. “Now then, let’s get to work, hmm? Hanzo, I’m going to have you in the back with Jesse for a bit. I want you to start on those bouquet orders we got yesterday.” 

 

Hanzo responded with a nod and turned, Jesse following wordlessly after him. They set to work immediately, Hanzo settling down to draft out the bouquets while Jesse wandered off, likely to move something around. Tempted as he was to strike up a conversation with his new coworker, Hanzo knew he didn’t have time. Neither Ana nor her customers tolerated tardiness. 

 

The morning passed quietly and without incident. It was nice, really. Hanzo relished the times when business was somewhat slow and he could just enjoy the fresh air. Compared to the rather chaotic elements that seemed to rule the rest of his life--namely, his brother--work brought a much welcome calm to his day. 

 

The afternoon was a bit different. As lunchtime came around and Ana switched the sign to indicate the shop’s midday break, Hanzo found himself sitting across from two hundred odd pounds of slightly sweaty cowboy. 

 

Strangely enough, Jesse was actually quite pleasant to talk to. Though still present, his roguish demeanor from the day before was a bit more subdued after hours of heavy lifting. His voice was softer, his laugh lighter, the pauses in between phrases amicable rather than awkward. Hanzo worked all throughout lunch, as usual, but that didn’t stop him from quietly chatting as he sketched, hiding a small grin all the while. 

 

The weeks rolled on and Hanzo adapted quickly to the changes in what was once his silent sanctuary. Leaves rustled, spurs jingled, light swears and mutters were interspersed between the usual stillness--all courtesy of one Jesse McCree. Hanzo found he didn’t mind too much. He minded even less in the afternoons, when they would get to talking, shy smiles and lopsided grins exchanged over silly cowboy jokes and the occasional special Amari tea that Ana would brew. 

 

Hanzo wasn’t an idiot--he recognized the growing warmth in his chest that blossomed when Jesse sat across from him, the shock sent through his fingers when they both reached for a pen at the same time or bumped into each other passing in and out of the shop front. He’d had crushes before. But he wasn’t a teenager anymore, he would handle this like an adult. 

 

And so, as grown adults are inclined to do, he shoved his feelings as far down his throat as he was able to in order to continue enjoying their midday conversations.

 

“Say, partner, I don’t mean to intrude, but you sure that’s the right order Ms. Amari was wantin’?” Jesse asked one day, leaning over from his chair to look at Hanzo’s sketchbook. 

 

Hanzo paused and glanced down. The bouquet was just like the customer had ordered, a pretty standard anniversary gift, but then he saw it. The extra stalks he’d added to the paper without thinking, carrying entirely different meaning.

 

Yellow chrysanthemums. Sweetpea. Pansies. 

 

Secret love. Shyness. Loving thoughts. 

 

Apparently, he wasn’t able to shove his feelings down as far as he’d like. 

 

“Last I checked, you didn’t have a florist license, Jesse. I’m quite certain of my abilities,” Hanzo responded cooly, even managing to throw in a cheeky grin for good measure. 

 

Jesse cracked a crooked smile in response. “If you say so, darlin’.”

 

So the dance continued, on and on. Hanzo found himself giving in more and more, presenting Jesse with idea sketches filled with flowers that blatantly depicted exactly how he felt. However, he failed to take his own words into account--Jesse didn’t know a lick of the language of flowers, so all Hanzo got in return was a blank look and a compliment on how nice the bouquet looked.

 

Likewise, Hanzo was confused when Jesse began trailing old leaves all around the shop, glaring down at them as they fluttered away from Hanzo’s work station. It was obvious Jesse was trying to draw his attention to  _ something _ , though to what Hanzo didn’t know. The unfortunate downfall of Jesse’s plan was the fact that he used leaves _ ,  _ which, as a whole, are a poor choice of medium. Hanzo would sweep them into the compost without a second thought, again unconscious of the line of digits lying just out of his line of sight. 

 

Despite the miscommunications, it was fun. A game of cat and mouse, one step forward and one step back. Most of all, Hanzo enjoyed the times just before closing when the customers dwindled and they could spend time together in the greenhouse. The dusk light would sift through the glass, painting the flowers in streaks of gold and pink. Jesse would enter, acrid scent of cigars still clinging to him from his smoke break, and they would enjoy the moment in silence. Not Jesse’s brand of silence, but true silence--the kind that speaks for itself. 

 

Hanzo surprised himself when he spoke first, glancing around the room with an awed sigh. “It is beautiful.”

 

“Sure is.”

 

He turned to Jesse with an eyebrow raised. “Oh? Are you finally learning to appreciate the finer qualities of our products?” Hanzo teased, eyes glowing. 

 

A slow grin spread across Jesse’s face, sweet as molasses. “I was appreciatin’ the view, not the flowers.” 

 

Hanzo felt the tips of his ears start to burn but held his ground, chin raised high. “And what is this view, pray tell? There’s not much I find here that can outclass the wonderful plants Ms. Amari keeps in stock.” 

 

“I’ll give you three guesses, sugar.” Jesse smirked, leaning a bit further towards Hanzo. His eyes narrowed, trained squarely on Hanzo, like a coyote with a rabbit in its sights. 

 

“Hmm…” Hanzo leaned back slightly, the corners of his mouth ticking upward. He wouldn’t stop the game now, not when they had come so far. “Is it...the stained glass Fareeha made?” he mused, tilting his head over to the entryway where the younger Amari’s art project hung. 

 

Jesse chuckled and knocked his shoulder against Hanzo’s. “Not quite. Guess again.” 

 

Hanzo paused and looked around. “Is it…that watering can?”

 

The can in question was a rusty old number that Ana had asked Hanzo to paint a few weeks back. He was quite proud of how it turned out--swirling blues and greens combined to form a starry night sky with two glowing dragons floating through it, ethereal in the moonlight. He wasn’t anywhere near the illustrator his brother was, but it was good enough to merit a place on the shelf.

 

“Sorry honeybuns, still no.” Jesse shook his head. “One last guess.”

 

Hanzo hummed, deep in thought. He got one more shot--what else was there to point out? He cast a glance towards Jesse, hoping for some sort of hint as to how to continue their dance, only to stop short. Since when was Jesse so close to him? He could see every little detail on his skin: the light, near-invisible freckles across his nose, the streaks of gold that shone through his chestnut hair, the small scar on his forehead he swore happened in a hunting accident and  _ not  _ because he tripped and fell face-first into a spurred boot as a child. 

 

He was beautiful. 

 

Hanzo opened his mouth to say as much, possessed by the moment, but was interrupted by the phone ringing. He and Jesse jumped apart like two teenagers caught by a strict parent and Hanzo quickly strode over to the phone, picking it up and definitely  _ not  _ snapping into it. After a curt confirmation with the customer Hanzo ever so gently set the phone down and returned to the greenhouse to see Jesse’s back turned away, his shoulders slumped. 

 

“Unfortunately, it seems we’ll have to postpone this,” he grumbled. “We’ve just received a rather  _ large  _ order for an upcoming wedding. Large to the point where I need to start working right now if I wish for it to be close to ready in time.”

 

Jesse simply smiled in response. It looked strange, like a counterfeit of Jesse’s normal grin. “No problem, buttercup. Hit me up anytime.”

\---

Unfortunately, it seemed that “anytime” was destined to be “never.” The wedding order took up Hanzo’s life entirely over the next few weeks, to the point where Jesse was asked to manage the front on most days. Hanzo saw him only a precious few times, and talked to him even less. It was a hectic time, and Hanzo’s workaholic habits certainly didn’t help any. 

 

Luckily, Jesse wasn’t one to accept being ignored so easily. Hanzo discovered this during one of his later night shifts when he was  _ literally  _ pulled out of a bed of tulips by his hips, his face quickly turning as red as the flower petals. 

 

“What do you think you’re doing, McCree?! You’re supposed to be watching the front!” he snapped, whirling around to face him.

 

“What I’m doin’ is savin’ your life, Hanzo, the least you could do is thank me,” Jesse replied. He gripped Hanzo’s forearm and tugged, pulling him along towards the front of the shop. “I already got the OK from Ms. Amari, so you and I are takin’ a lil’ field trip.”

 

Hanzo scoffed and dug his heels into the floor in a fruitless attempt to stop Jesse. He really should’ve known better--once the cowboy had his mind set on something, it wouldn’t change. Ana waved cheerily at them as Hanzo was dragged out the front door and out into the lightly misting city streets. 

 

“Let go of me you fool,” Hanzo spat, yanking his hand out of Jesse’s grip. “I can walk on my own. I do not see why you were allowed to interrupt my concentration considering how important this order is to the shop, but I suppose I have no choice but to follow your ridiculous whims. Where are we going?”

 

Jesse put his hands in his pockets and threw on his best roguish grin. “I was jus’ thinking a coffee shop or somethin’. Y’know, keep it simple. You ever taken a  _ break _ before, Hanzo?”

 

“Of course. I’m not so unhealthy as to have absolutely no hobbies, you know this,” he replied, crossing his arms. 

 

Jesse just laughed off his coworker’s grumpiness and kept walking, eventually bringing the two of them to stand in front of a kitschy, but somewhat cute little coffee shop a few streets away from the store. The inside was a bit homier and comfortable than the outside--though the abundance of European decorations were beyond tacky, they held a sort of charm amongst the dimmed lights and leather cushions. 

 

Despite the air of eccentricity that Jesse carried with him everywhere he went, the shop seemed to suit him. He strode in like the place was home, throwing a confident smile at the baristas (all of whom grinned back, no doubt amused by this rugged, spur-wearing ponytailed man). 

 

They ordered quickly--or rather, Jesse ordered chai lattes for both of them before Hanzo could get a word in edgewise--and found a table near the back to settle in. Jesse settled onto a wooden bench while Hanzo took the chair opposite, noting with a snort the large painting of the Eiffel Tower with the phrase “Paris, je t’aime” that hung above his head. 

 

Hanzo glanced over as the silence between them stretched on. Jesse would normally not shut up during an occasion like this, so the sudden quiet was suspicious. It felt familiar, like the sort of nerves he would get on a first date.

 

But this wasn’t a date, was it? Jesse certainly hadn’t said it was. Yet the two of them were in a coffee shop together, alone on a rainy day. Jesse’s cheeks held a certain telling shade of pink. That could just be the cold though, and this could just be a friend thing. 

 

Hanzo sighed. People were complicated. 

 

They were saved from the fate of a prolonged awkward silence by the waitress, who so helpfully came by with both of their drinks. The ceramic cups were in different pastel colors and covered in polka dots. Again, eccentric, but charming. Much like Jesse himself, who seemed to turn a bit more pink at the hearts floating in their lattes. 

 

“Are you feeling alright, Jesse? You look like you may have a fever,” Hanzo said, a smirk coming to his lips as he blew on his drink. 

 

Jesse let out a sort of strangled noise and cleared his throat. “Uh, no, I’m fine. Jus’ hopin’ you like chai lattes, sort of ordered for both of us without thinkin’,” he mumbled. 

 

Hanzo just chuckled and took a sip of his drink. Since when was he in such a good mood? It must be Jesse’s effect, he realized--everything he did lifted some sort of weight off of Hanzo’s heart. “It is fine. I have always found tea to be quite soothing.” 

 

“Really? I usually prefer coffee, but chai is some exception. I like a bit of bite to my drinks, if you know what I mean,” Jesse said, winking non-too-subtly.  

 

Hanzo rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide his fondness. Now that Jesse’s tongue had loosened, the floodgates were open. Their conversation carried on and on, far beyond when their cups were drained, though Hanzo didn’t find himself paying much mind to the time. Eventually they were approached by a timid looking employee who spoke so low they could barely hear her, but a glance at the clock revealed all they needed to know. They rushed out into the cool night air quickly after that, but soon realized that the shop would be closed by now. 

 

So they wandered, no particular destination in mind. The city streets were near empty at this hour, Jesse’s words carrying easily on the cool night breeze. Their feet eventually took them to a small park surrounded by rows of azaleas. Hanzo settled into the grass with Jesse beside him, their shoulders and knees knocking together.

 

“My brother would love this place. He always enjoyed adventuring late at night,” Hanzo said, voice soft. 

 

“Genji? From what you’ve told me, he liked adventurin’ of a different type. Can’t imagine that crazy party boy to like quiet nights like this’un,” Jesse laughed. 

 

“He had his calmer side as well. The partying mostly came when we were younger--and even then, it was really in comparison to me. I was...not the most socially active child.” Hanzo huffed. 

 

“Still, we had fun in those days. I remember one time in particular, Genji came back blackout drunk. He passed out on the bottom bunk as soon as he was home, regardless of the fact that I was already sleeping there. I had to come up with something to say to father the next day when he wouldn’t get out of bed--I settled for an infectious flu going around. Just as I did, however, Genji ran into the kitchen, screaming about how he’d been bitten by the world’s most poisonous snake and he’d needed the vodka to wash out the poison. Needless to say, father wasn’t very impressed.” 

 

Hanzo smiled at the grass, his mind playing the memory back. They’d been grounded for two weeks afterwards but it was well worth it, especially when Genji managed to break into the sake cabinet. They’d stayed up until the sun rose, just drinking and talking. Hanzo missed those days. 

 

Jesse laughed, breaking Hanzo out of his thoughts. “Sounds kinda like me, in all honesty. I said some dumbass shit when I was a kid, that was for sure. Remember one time I broke my leg, tried to blame it on an ozark howler. Didn’t wanna tell my folks I’d fallen out of Jenny Schulman’s window ‘cause I had one too many jello shots.”

 

“You and Genji would have gotten along famously. I cannot imagine the havoc you two would have wrought.” Hanzo smiled, turning to face Jesse. 

 

“Why Hanzo, I’m surprised you underestimate me like this. Havoc’s much too calm a word--the two of us’d cause a right damn hurricane. Complete with underwear flung across the walls and roofless houses.” 

 

Hanzo grinned. “And scandalized women?” 

 

“Men, actually,” Jesse said, nodding solemnly. He held Hanzo’s gaze for a full second before the two of them burst into laughter, giggles echoing through the park. Jesse bent over to clutch at his stomach while Hanzo laid back, trying his hardest to keep from snorting too loudly. 

 

The moment seemed to stop in an instant when Hanzo looked up, eyes locking with Jesse’s and laughter dying on his lips. He was close again...when did he move? Hanzo’s eyes flickered down to Jesse’s lips. They looked soft, inviting. The moonlight reflected off of his hair, his cheeks, painting him in a semi-angelic light. Like Jesse had been brought to him personally, sent as a midnight messenger to tell him some great secret. Before he knew it, Hanzo was leaning forward until his lips were against Jesse’s, brushing over them ever so lightly. 

 

Jesse’s hands came up to rest on his shoulders, pulling Hanzo in further. He brought them closer, their noses sliding against each other, but kept the kiss firmly chaste. After a moment, Hanzo pulled away and rested his forehead against Jesse’s with a quiet huff. 

 

“So,” he began.

 

“So,” Jesse replied.

 

The two of them shared another bout of laughter, though this one was much quieter, more of a hushed chuckle than a giggle fit. Hanzo could feel Jesse’s warm breath fan across his face, could see the lamplight reflect in his beautiful brown eyes. He felt at ease, warm despite the cool night. 

 

He felt at home.

 

“I take it this was a date, then?” Hanzo spoke, one hand wandering over to lace his fingers in Jesse’s. 

 

Jesse snorted and knocked their foreheads together again. “No shit, Sherlock. ‘Course it was a date. I been tryna ask you out for weeks, y’know?”

 

“It is not my fault you were oblivious to my advances as well, cowman.” Hanzo sighed. “Though, I suppose I cannot complain now.” 

 

Jesse laughed and rubbed their noses together, his smile brighter than any of the shop’s flowers. “Sure can’t, doll. Sure can’t.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This work was highkey inspired by [this](http://missfloras.tumblr.com/post/156404688656/this-might-be-my-fave-au-now) post, though unfortunately I was unable to work noodle dragons into the fic. Still, gotta love me some garden shop au.
> 
> A big big big thank you as always to my ever lovely beta (the best beta ever, really) [Mango](archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentMango)! She's so beautiful and perfect, go follow her and read all her stuff if you haven't already. I'm serious. Do it. Everything she writes is gold. 
> 
> And another thank you to the McHanzo and Shipwatch discords, you guys are so supportive and lovely.
> 
> Come find me on [twitter](twitter.com/tsoleille) or [tumblr](http://schrodingerslion.tumblr.com/)! I'm a big nerd and I love talking to people, especially about games I love like Overwatch. 
> 
> Have a good one guys! May you find your own rainy day gay with a smile as bright as a bushel of sunflowers <3


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